


Towards the horizon

by Ciulla96



Category: Divinity: Original Sin (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Strangers to Lovers, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciulla96/pseuds/Ciulla96
Summary: When an old dwarf falls in love with the only voice that keeps him company during his restless nights, he knows he can sail with her towards the horizon, but he can never reach it.Or: The tale of a dwarf and the ship that gave him a Live-woody
Relationships: Beast | Marcus Miles/Lady Vengeance
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Towards the horizon

Beast couldn’t sleep.

He rarely could. Too many nightmares, that was the truth. It was a gift the exile to the Isle of Mist had left him after he had run away. Whenever he closed his eyes, he woke up covered in sweat and tears, and he had soon decided it wasn’t worth it, and it was better not to close his eyes at all. When his friends asked about it, he lied, saying it was his love for the night that kept him awake, and not his hatred of dreams. He said that laying down, watching the stars shine, filled his heart with a wonder and an amazement he couldn’t give up, not even for the sake of a good night sleep. He said that he felt less alone, watching the sky; that Rivellon was nothing but a small dwarf sailing in the high seas of the universe and he wanted to admire its journey. They believed him and left him alone, admiring his kind heart, not knowing how far they were from touching it under the heavy beard he covered it with.

Of the nights, Beast especially hated the silence. He had had too much silence, in his life. And so, he talked to himself. He scolded himself for his mistakes, praised himself for his victories, warned himself of the dangers he would face the next day. He spoke of tales that had never happened and sang songs no one had ever written. But what he missed, what he truly desired, was someone who’d answer.

Until someone did.

One night, as he was singing a sad tune about life and loss, a woman talked to him. Her voice was deep and suave, and her words were as beautiful as a sunrise over the sea.

“Speak louder, my kind-hearted dwarf”, she said, “for I want to hear your beautiful voice”.

Beast smiled, obeying. He never wondered for a moment where the voice came from. He had already heard it, already admired the magnificence of she who possessed it, and he didn’t wish for anything more than to please her every desire.

Stroking softly the Livewood he was sitting on, he sang to the ship about quests and adventures, about journeys and destinations, and the Lady Vengeance listened silently, until the sun rose in front of the dwarf’s tired eye.

Every night he spent sailing, from then on, he spent them with her. He’d move closer and closer to the dragon head each time, feeling like a lover who took small steps while courting a lady to win her over with patience. He’d sing to her about mortals and their overwhelming emotions, about hate, and fear, and sadness, and love. He’d tell her stories about his life, and ask her to talk about hers, but she never replied.

He never desisted. Soon, he started spending the nights right next to the figurehead, a hand softly stroking the neck of the dragon, looking with her towards the horizon.

“I wish ye could feel me touch”, he whispered one night, caressing the Livewood like a careful lover, his fingers lingering on it longer than necessary.

“I feel it”, replied the Lady Vengeance. It was the first time Beast heard her speak after she had asked him to sing, and he held his breath as she did, almost too scared of losing a word if he did so much as exhale. “I feel it when you walk on my back with your bare feet, I feel it when you stroke my side with incomparable devotion, I feel it when you caress me, when your beard tickles me as you smell the inebriating scent of the Livewood I’m made of. I feel it, my kind-hearted dwarf, and when I don’t, I long for it”.

The Lady Vengeance started answering his questions, from that moment on. She started telling him about her life, back when she was an elf and could run happily among the trees and the streams. She told him about the beauty of the forests, about the amazement of a life in communion with nature. She missed the simplicity of waking up to the tweeting birds in the morning, and falling asleep to the hooting of owls. She remembered living, joyful and free, and she remembered dying, scared, killed by a venomous fog. She remembered living again, her roots growing deeper and deeper in the ground, a luscious tree who was home to the same birds and owls that had accompanied her days since forever. She remembered dying once more, when she had been uprooted and cut into pieces, and her wood had been used to craft that ship; and she remembered, after that moment, dying a little every day, every time the Magisters gave her an order, sang the song to control her, making her wish for nothing more than, at last, true oblivion. And then, suddenly, one night, she had heard a voice, a kind voice singing of life and loss; and she had been alive again.

She sang, too. She taught Beast the melody her master could use to control her, so that if she was ever to turn against him, he’d be able to make her come back to her senses. And Beast, his heart full like it had never been before, cried in front of such honour and trust.

He started sitting on her head every night, and they talked about nothing and about every single thing in the universe; and if she lost her way, Beast was ready to point her in the right direction, and if he lost his balance, she was ready to save him from falling.

One night, in a moment of silence, Beast started singing, his voice trembling from the emotion.

“Thar was an ole dwarf, who sailed th’ high seas…” He sang, sounding pained. “Th’ wind in his beard, ‘n th’ salt in th’ breeze. He felt scared ‘n lonely, ashamed o’ hisself… He felt like a fool, fer he loved an elf”. He sighed, before continuing making up lyrics. “He wanted so badly t' give her his love, he wanted t' gift her th' moon up above, he wanted t' cherish her, 'n thought that he could, but then he remembered… She was made o' wood”. He felt a tear escaping his eye and falling into his beard. “I’m sorry”, he sighed.

“Never be sorry for your love, my kind-hearted dwarf”, she replied, “for it makes my life worth living”.

When he wasn’t sailing, when he spent the days and the nights travelling in Rivellon with his friends, he missed her with his whole being, and he wished nothing more than to be able to get back to her once again. His friends started to notice it, soon enough. They saw how sad he got whenever they were away from the ship, but they just chalked it up to an old sailor missing the sea, and never to a passionate lover missing the only balm for his broken heart. They didn’t know how lonely a night on the sea could be, how precious someone’s company could become, how ardently could love burn when it was the only thing that kept you sane, until it was love itself that made you insane.

One night, to escape from those who wanted to take their lives, Malady the half-demon guided the Lady Vengeance through mystical realms where no living soul should ever venture, and with her last strength, the ship finally crashed on the shores of Arx City, giving her last breath to make sure the dwarf she loved landed safely.

Beast’s heart broke. He cried like a baby, kneeling next to the remnants of the figurehead, now forever with her eyes closed. He called her, begged her to come back to him, or to bring him with her wherever she was, for he didn’t know anymore how to live without her. In front of the astonished gaze of his friends, he sobbed until he had no more tears, and when he stood up, drying his eyes and walking away, he was just a shadow of the dwarf he used to be, a part of him forever lost in the wreck.

When the final battle came, and they decided the only way to ensure the safety of all Rivellon was to give up their Source, Beast was glad. He knew he’d become a Silent Monk, nothing but a soulless puppet, but what use did he even have for a soul, now that the only thing that gave it a meaning was lost? His friends exchanged terrified looks, scared and frightened despite being sure of their decision, but he was calm. They said the one they were facing was a fate worse than death, but Beast was sure it couldn’t be worse than life.

And then, Malady brought them back. Using the Source she still possessed, she gave them back their lives; and Beast hated her, for she was a demon, and like a true demon she had brought away his only chance to end his suffering.

But the woman looked at him with an enigmatic smile, and hugged him close.

“She’s an elf”, she told him, “and we elves always find a way to come back”.

Not far, on the shore, the Lady Vengeance had never seemed so beautiful. He ran to her, placed his hands on the figurehead, and just like her, he was alive again.

“Milady”, he whispered, overwhelmed. “Ye’re gorgeous as ever”.

“My kind-hearted dwarf”, she replied. “I’ve missed you every second you were gone”.

“Then ye won’t ever miss me again”, he promised. “’tis done, th' Source is gone, 'n I don't 'ave a mission anymore, nothing that shall keep me away from ye. Let me sail wit' ye forever, jus' us, on th' high seas, towards th' horizon; 'n when we'll reach it, I know we'll finally be truly together”.

“There’s nothing I want more than that”, she replied. “Where to, my love?”

Beast smiled, finally happy. “Everywhere”.


End file.
